Isaac did not look a happy old man, sitting there all alone, buried in these thoughts, with his wrinkled forehead, and dull eyes, and dropping lower jaw. He was not at all an attractive or lovable old man. Daisy worked hard to keep his clothes tidy, but he persisted in wearing an old coat of tindery texture, which almost dropped into holes with its own weight. He had one other suit, very aged, yet tolerably respectable, but he would scarcely ever put it on, for he was terribly afraid of its wearing out and having to be replaced. He often told Daisy that she was doing her best to ruin him; and if she ventured to ask anything for herself, he sometimes positively cried like a little child. He did not see why Daisy's clothes, once bought, needed ever to wear out. The room grew dark, as the old man sat musing, for clouds had crept over the sun, and a stormy blackness gathered round. Isaac hardly noticed the change, until he was startled by a sudden and blinding flash, straight in his eyes, followed by a loud thunder-crash. He pushed his chair back into the shade between the two windows, disliking the glare. If Daisy had been present he would have affected indifference: but being alone he did not disguise from himself a feeling of uneasiness, almost amounting to fear. The lightning blazed, and the thunder crashed again and again; and he pushed his chair yet farther into the shade. There had not been so heavy a storm for a long while in Banks. Isaac muttered once or twice, "Shouldn't wonder if something was struck, I shouldn't! Why don't Daisy make haste home?" But Daisy was long in returning. The storm came nearer, and the flashes were in quick succession, and rain pattered heavily on the trees outside. Presently, however, the pauses between the lightning grew longer, and slowly the storm seemed to grumble and growl itself away into the distance. Suddenly Isaac was roused from the half sleepy state into which he had fallen, by a smart ringing and knocking at the front door. He sat still, wondering what it could all be about. Then the door was opened and he heard a suppressed shriek from the girl, Bess, and a voice said, "Hush, hush, you will frighten the old man. Where is he? Let me go to him first." "He's in yonder," gasped Bess, in tones of blank dismay. But Isaac rose and came out, in a tremor of fear. He thought the house must be on fire, and he wanted to go after a certain strong little iron box, locked up in another room. Mrs. Roper met him just at the parlour door, and she began to say pityingly, "Stop a moment, Mr. Meads, stop,—such a sad thing has happened." Isaac would not stop. He pushed past her into the passage. There he was brought to a standstill. For Daisy, carried by two men, lay, white and helpless and senseless, with shut eyes and no sign of life in her. "Which is Daisy's room?" asked Mrs. Roper. "Upstairs, I suppose?"